


Headstrong

by oddphantom



Series: Live Wire [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Begging, Blowjobs, Brat Bucky Barnes, Coach/Player Relationship, Dom Steve Rogers, Dom/sub, Edging, Grinding, Kink, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, PWP, Porn with minimal Plot, Smut, Soccer, Sub Bucky Barnes, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-05-18 09:44:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14850407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oddphantom/pseuds/oddphantom
Summary: Steve stepped close to Bucky, towering over him. Bucky went silent. Steve dug through the pocket of his shorts and pressed his keys into Bucky’s hand roughly.“Go start my car. Put your bags in the trunk and get in. I’ll be out in ten minutes.” Bucky recoiled like he’d been slapped, but all Steve had done was step away from him after closing Bucky’s hand over the car key. It cut roughly into Bucky’s skin, but he didn’t resist Steve’s grip. He nodded.“Yeah, okay.”“What’s that?”“Yes. I meant ‘yes, Steve.’ Sorry.” Bucky mumbled.“Ten minutes.” He said and then just left a stunned Bucky in the classroom.





	Headstrong

Bucky stayed after calc class for three reasons.

Reason one: he needed help on his homework. Plain and simple. Finding the derivative of a tangent line? Not as easy as it sounds. And it doesn’t even sound all that easy. The bell rings, and he walks up to Rogers’ podium- Rogers _has_ a desk, but he never sits at it. He teaches from the podium that’s next to his desk, alternating between sitting at a tall stool or standing.

“Hey, can you do a couple more of these with me? I kind of get it, but not really.”

His teacher nodded. “Yeah, Bucky, of course. Give me a minute.” He clicked a couple more times on his laptop, and music started to play softly. He walked to sit with Bucky at two desks, lifting one up and moving it to face Bucky. “Which ones?”

He pointed at the ones he’d circled. The ones he could _not_ figure out.

“Okay,” Rogers always drags his vowels out when he’s thinking. “If the function of X is X cubed minus two X, what’s the derivative?”

Bucky murmured, “Three X squared minus two.”

Rogers never tells him how to do anything. He prompts him to figure it out himself, which is at the same time rewarding and kind of annoying. Mostly because if Rogers says, for example, _what’s twenty- one squared?_ in that way where he’s trying to tell Bucky he’s almost figured it out...well, Bucky doesn’t know that off the top of his head, does he? _-_ four hundred and forty one, by the way- but he’s not about to pull a calculator out when he knows full well that Rogers knows it off the top of his head.

So his teacher prompts him through three more problems until something clicks in Bucky’s head and he’s more willing to try the rest on his own without fear that he’ll have to erase all his work anyway.

Reason two: neither he or Rogers have a class right now. Maybe he should’ve mentioned that first. Rogers has a planning period, and Bucky has study hall. Often as not Bucky doesn’t need help, and they just while a class period away talking and listening to music. Rogers will write him a pass if he needs it.

“You gonna be okay to try those other ones while I go make copies?”

“Feel free.”

Bucky knows that making copies is quick. In fact, it takes about one and a half problems -one Alice In Chains song- to get back.

“How’s it goin’?” Rogers asks when he gets back, small stack of papers in hand. Bucky says, “I think pretty good.”

Rogers comes next to Bucky to check over his work on the problems he hadn’t been supervised for. “That’s exactly right, Buck. Nice job.”

Bucky smiled at him and then kept working. Rogers went over to his podium to do whatever it is he does. Type emails. Do the homework he assigns. When Bucky once asked why he did that, he said, _Answer keys don’t make themselves, Buck. Besides, it’s only fair._

Bucky hummed to the music coming from the laptop and kept working. They chatted a small bit, as they always do, but Bucky also needed to work. He wasn’t gonna have time to do homework tonight. Which reminds him!

Reason three: “Hey, what time does the bus leave today?” Bucky broke the silence.

“Two- twenty. You get out of class at five after.”

Bucky nodded. “Roger that.”

“Was that a pun?”

“Not intentionally, but I don’t regret it either.”

Bucky was kind of loathe to miss History again, because they’d had _three_ away games this week, and he kept missing most of his last period. Today, he’d miss all but five damn minutes of it.

Rogers snorted.

“Is Dewees stil DQ’d?” Bucky asked.

With a heavy sigh, he said, “Yeah, unfortunately. He has a D in chemistry.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “So who’s subbing as middie?”

“You, actually. I put you on middie and Dugan on defense.”

“You put _Dugan_ on D?” Bucky almost shouted.

Steve gave him a warning look. “Yeah, I did.”

Backing off: “Alright, your call.” Dugan was awful on defense. For one thing, Bucky knew he’d just try to make some miracle shot into the goal from across the field that wouldn’t even go near the net. For another, Dugan couldn’t defend for shit anyway. Bucky was their best defender. Why his coach kept moving him whenever they needed a sub was beyond him.

Bucky finished his calc up and said to Rogers, “I think I got it,” so Rogers came over to check his work over. He didn’t sit at the desk he’d moved to be near Bucky, he stood right next to him. Hand on Bucky’s shoulder. Definitely intentional, with the way warm, empty want bloomed in Bucky’s stomach.

He spent about ten and a half years going through Bucky’s work with furrowed brows, one problem at a time. He didn’t just look at the answers, he physically looked at each of the steps and followed Bucky’s train of thought.

“You dropped negatives on nine and thirteen, but other than that they’re correct. So look at those again and then you’re good.”

Bucky really considered just doing it later, since he knew how to do it, but Rogers was right there. Waiting for him to do it. Probably reading his damn mind, with the way his hand on Bucky’s shoulder tightened and didn’t move. Bucky went back and fixed his mistakes. Felt Rogers’ eyes on him. Felt nerves and shyness fill his chest. Pushed on.

Oh! Bonus reason:

Bucky finished the problems and looked up and to the right to meet Rogers’ eyes. “Better?”

“Yeah, Buck you got it. Good boy.” He stroked Bucky’s chin with his thumb. Bucky’s eyelids fluttered. “Steve.”

“Hm?”

“Can we- tonight, after the game, can I- ‘cause it’s Friday and-” Bucky didn’t know where he even meant to go with that sentence.

“Yeah, Buck. Of course,” Steve stopped talking, but Bucky knew he wasn’t done. Sometimes Steve stuck short silences in places that he thought deserved them, so responding would technically be interrupting. “If you’re good.”

Bucky nodded. He could do that.

Turns out, Steve had wanted a verbal answer there. He walked back over to his podium and said “You _can_ be good, can’t you?”

Bucky said, “Yes, Steve. Yeah.”

“Then say it.”

Clenching his jaw, Bucky felt mild annoyance make him almost roll his eyes before he caught himself. He was annoyed enough, even, to- “I can be good. Sir.”

Steve’s eyes flicked up. Steve doesn’t actually make Bucky call him _sir._ Sometimes it feels ungainly. Since they’re both well aware who tells who what to do, it’s an artifice. Bucky only calls Steve _sir_ if he’s playing coy. Innocent. Playing any game that makes Steve’s cock swell incrementally and his teeth clench.

“Watch it.” Steve warned.

Bucky looked up at him and smirked. “What would you rather I call you?” Bucky paused. “Would c _oach_ be better _?”_

Steve knew where this was going. “Stop talking, Bucky.”

“Or _Mister Rogers?”_

“ _James-”_

“Or should we try _daddy_ out again, sir?”

Steve stood up from his stool with a loud _screech._ His jaw was square and set and he looked like he was about to either beat Bucky’s ass black and blue or fuck him into the floor.

“Buck-”

The bell rang. Bucky grinned. He knew he had about twenty seconds until people begin to file in.

“Thanks for the help, Rogers.” That’s normal for Bucky. Most high school students omit the _Mister_ or _Miss_ by their sophomore year at the latest. He began gathering his things. Steve said, “No problem, Bucky. See you at two- twenty, then,” stiffly.

A student walked in and Bucky moved the desks they’d been using back to where they were supposed to go. He left just as someone else had filed in, so he caught the open door and ducked out, smiling.

-

“I have to leave at five after for a soccer game today. Is that okay?” Bucky asked Prichard.

“For sure! Good luck. Today you guys are just taking notes and starting on your study guides. You already know you can find the slideshow I’ll use online. Let me get you a copy of the study guide.” She was always nice; Bucky liked her. She got a folder out of her desk drawer and handed Bucky a packet. Bucky thanked her and sat down for, literally, five minutes. When it was time, he got his bag and left the room as quietly as possible so that he didn’t distract anybody. His teacher nodded at him and he made his way to the locker room. When he got to his usual spot, Sam was already there.

“Wilson! How the hell are you?” Bucky chuckled while they grasped each other’s hands in a handshake- high five.

“Just fine, Barnes. Yourself?” They started yanking their clothes off to put uniforms on.

“Well, Rogers told me that he’s making me midfield and putting Dugan on defense, since Dewees is still DQ’d for his chem grade.”

Sam groaned. “You’re _kidding_ me,” pulling his shorts on and then getting his socks out of his bag. “Dugan doesn’t defend _fuck- all._ Why can’t he put Morita on mid and keep you on D? You’re the _only_ good defender.” Sam loved to claim that, but he plays offense. He doesn’t really understand that- _Wilson, you realize Cam is just as good as me, right?_

“I don’t know about that, but I’m definitely more comfortable with me on D than him.” Bucky said, zipping his bag up at the same time as Sam and carrying his shoes in one hand. They took them to the hall outside to sit down and put their shoes on, since the locker room was too packed. They both put tennis shoes on even though they’d only change into cleats once they got on the field.

“I really don’t know what he’s thinking,” Sam continued. “We’re gonna keep pulling L’s if they line us up like this.”

“I could write a better lineup in my damn _sleep.”_ Bucky complained, pulling all of his hair into the ponytail he’d had on his wrist all day.

“You do that, Barnes, and tell me how it goes,” Both boys’ heads snapped up. Rogers was walking down the hallway with a mesh bag of soccer balls slung over his shoulder, not even looking back at them. When he was far enough away, Sam and Bucky both burst into ridiculous laughter. Sam shook his head. “Jesus, dude,” He said, laughter chopping into his words.

“I know, right?”

They got their asses to the bus, then, because it was set to leave soon. Most of the team was already on when they got there, so they grabbed seats closer to the front of the bus. It would be an alright ride there, maybe half an hour or forty- five minutes. Only about half of the guys had to double up on seats, so Sam and Bucky each got an empty one and spread out on it. Bucky, so close to the front, was one seat behind Steve but in the opposite row. Once he pulled his history study guide out and started scribbling answers down, he found that he caught a glimpse of Steve every time he glanced up. Straight jaw, blonde hair. Red- tipped ear. Scowling at a clipboard on his lap. Bucky glanced at him often enough, and Steve glanced at him sometimes, too.

The bus pulled into the parking lot of a high school soon enough. Bucky had gotten through a section of his study guide, and Sam had fallen right asleep. Bucky jerked his shoulder to wake him up. Rogers stood up at the front of the bus to address the team.

“Alright guys,” He said loudly, not actually yelling but making sure to be loud. “We won this game last year, and I know all of you have improved since then. I have faith in all of you today, alright? I’ve adjusted the lineup a little bit today, so if you have questions, let me know. James and Sam are going to be nice enough to get the water and ice carried to the field, so I just need one more person to get the soccer balls out there.”

The team snickered when they heard Steve volunteer them, knowing full well that nobody actually carries the coolers at will unless they’re kissing ass. And Bucky and Sam sure as shit don’t do that. Bucky rolled his eyes and hauled himself off the bus to walk around to the back to grab the water cooler. Sam and him shared a look, but Rogers was _right_ behind them, so they said nothing. Bucky, with his school bag on his back and his soccer duffle on his arm, carried the water by the handles in both hands all the way out to the field. Sam walked next to him, both of their biceps straining just enough to be annoying.

They set them down at the field with collective grunts, a few moments ahead of the rest of the team. They shook their heads at one another and threw their bags onto the ground at the sideline, sitting down to change into cleats. Rogers didn’t even acknowledge them after that, talking to the other athletes and letting people know the way he’d switched things up today. Dugan looked fucking _elated_ to know he was on defense. He even walked towards Bucky to say, “You better keep an eye on your position, Barnes. I might be the new favorite defender. And I won’t even need to kiss Rogers’ ass to get there.”

Bucky snorted. “Yeah, how was the bench all season? Must be nice to be on the field for once.”

Sam laughed, and Rogers cleared his throat. Bucky hadn’t even realized he was there.

“You two done?”

Dugan nodded silently, but Bucky just glared. Steve said “Don’t make me bench _you,_ Barnes.”

Bucky scoffed while he stood. He reached a hand down for Sam as Steve walked away to talk to the other school’s coach. Sam took his hand and pulled himself up

“Don’t worry about that asshole.”

“Yeah, I know.” Bucky sighed.

They warmed up with a couple of laps and dynamic stretches, all that, before eventually getting on the field. Bucky sighed as he walked, but eventually, once the game started, went into a peaceful focus where he just ran as hard as he could and analyzed what he saw, what he needed to do about it. Catching and making passes, getting the ball onto the other team’s side of the field.

The first period went by relatively quickly. Bucky passed to his most open teammate and they shot it. Bucky stole the ball from the other team before they got to pass or shoot it. They were up one to two at halftime. Bucky was panting and downing water during their break. Rogers was walking around making sure everyone had water and was doing alright. He got over to where Bucky and Sam were sitting by their bags. “How’s it going?” he asked.

“Living the dream,” Bucky panted, drinking more water and wiping sweat off his head and the back of his neck. Hair was falling out of his ponytail, he’d have to redo it.

“Sam?”

“I’m good, Rogers,” Sam said, breathily but definitely better than he had been a few moments ago.

Bucky pulled his hair down and combed it a little with his fingers. He got all of the sweat- soaked pieces that had fallen out and stuck to his forehead back into the elastic as securely as he could.

The break was simultaneously not long enough and much too long to wait for. Bucky was sort of grateful to get back on the field, get the game over with.

-

The other team had managed to score again and put them at a two- two tie by the last few minutes of the game. Bucky’s shot was open.  The guy in front of him trying to dribble kicked the ball too far out when he did. There was a clean line from Bucky to Sam, and Sam to the goal. Steve was shouting, “James, now!” from the sideline, and Bucky ran over, kicked the ball _hard_ towards Sam and-

He hit it with the dead front of his toe. It flew in the air. One of the other team hit it with his head back towards someone else, who bounced it off his chest. He sent it straight past Dugan, who didn’t even flinch. Right past their keeper- into the goal. Bucky groaned and put his head in his hands. The other team cheered and high fived the guy who kicked it in. Sam walked over to Bucky to grasp his shoulder.

Rogers shouted, “Barnes!” across the field.

Even though he knew what he wanted, Bucky just said, “Rogers?” sarcastically.

“Over here. Now.”

Bucky said, “Jesus Christ,” at the same time that Sam said “Good luck.”

Bucky took a very deep breath and clenched his jaw, walking over. “Yeah?”

“What was that?”

“I hit it wrong.” Bucky said like it was obvious. Which it _was._

Rogers sighed. “I can _see_ that. Is this second grade? We’re _toe-ing_ the ball now?”

“It was an accident,” Bucky insisted with a huff.

He snorted. “An accident. That’s carelessness.”

Bucky rolled his eyes but stayed silent, since that’s how he’d get his coach to shut up faster.

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “You fuckin’ blind or something?”

Rogers grabbed Bucky’s shoulder in a way that might look normal from a distance, but was actually verging on painful. It wasn’t an accident, nor was the edge to his voice when he spoke lowly and quietly. “Get your shit together, James. There’s ten minutes left in the game. Try to get through it without being an ass. Think you can manage that?” He let go of Bucky’s shoulder with a small shove. Bucky gritted his teeth and turned right around, jogged back to centerfield where they were getting in position to face off again.

Nobody ended up scoring again, so they lost three to two. They filed back onto the bus all a little irritated. Bucky was beyond pissed. Pissed at Dugan, at Steve, at his fucking self for missing an easy ass shot.  Dugan looked like he wanted to make fun of Bucky, but Bucky shot him a look that said to shut the fuck up. He took the hint for once.

Bucky put headphones in and rested his head against the window for the whole ride. He didn’t doze off like the others were, just laid there and kinda- fumed- kinda- felt- bad.  When the bus started turning and stopping more often, Bucky could tell they were off the highway and getting close to the school. He opened his eyes as they were turning into the parking lot, so he began gathering his bag and backpack onto his back to carry down the aisle. It was dark out, and the bus was mostly quiet. People murmured as they stood up, climbing off the bus single- file and squinting against the lights. Bucky fumed right past all his teammates. Sam was close behind, pissed too but not nearly in the way Bucky was. They got to the back doors and through the hall to the front doors, not talking but not really needing to. They said goodbye and clasped one another’s shoulders, and Bucky waved halfheartedly as Sam walked out of the front doors.

Bucky was aware that he and Sam had been well ahead of the team and his coach, so when he walked back towards the sound of talking and footfalls, they were only halfway down the hall. Steve was leading the pack, holding the soccer ball bag over his shoulder. A couple of juniors were carrying the empty coolers and set them down outside of the AD’s office where they went.

Bucky looked nervously at Steve, knowing he’d really pissed him off. Steve walked right past him, breezing close enough to him that their shoulders touched and Bucky knew to follow. Steve set the mesh bag down by a the coolers and shoved him into an empty classroom and flicked the light on. Bucky looked up at him.

“Steve…” Bucky began.

Steve stepped close to Bucky, towering over him. Bucky went silent. Steve dug through the pocket of his shorts and pressed his keys into Bucky’s hand roughly.

“Go start my car. Put your bags in the trunk and get in. I’ll be out in ten minutes.” Bucky recoiled like he’d been slapped, but all Steve had done was step away from him after closing Bucky’s hand over the car key. It cut roughly into Bucky’s skin, but he didn’t resist Steve’s grip. He nodded.

“Yeah, okay.”

“What’s that?”

“Yes. I meant ‘yes, Steve.’ Sorry.” Bucky mumbled.

“Ten minutes.” He said and then just left a stunned Bucky in the classroom. Steve went back to make sure all his teammates had rides and their parents were on their way, or whatever he had to do. Bucky walked out the front door and to the left of the parking lot where staff parks. There were hardly any cars in the lot, but Bucky’s always able to find Steve’s car anyway. It was this Mercedes- Benz that Steve had gotten made specifically with turbos and without an automatic transmission. He’d taught Bucky how to drive the stickshift, but he wasn’t much good. Still, he knew enough to clutch while he turned the car on and put it in neutral. He opened the trunk and set all his bags to one side, because he knew Steve would need the other side for his bag and soccer balls. Bucky thought maybe he should be done being an asshole for now.

He sat in the passenger seat and waited for Steve. He stared at the clock and the door and the car’s leather interior. Waiting. Bucky thought he might not mind that he was in trouble. Steve was gonna take him home, and make him cry, and fuck him, and that wasn’t bad at all. That was good. Bucky needed that.

Steve got out to the car eventually. Not that Bucky was worried he _wouldn’t,_ but he also didn’t really want to wait much longer. He set his things in the trunk and came around to the driver side and got in.

“Hey, Steve.” Bucky said to break the silence.

“Hey, Bucky. How are you feeling?”

“A little better.” He admitted. Steve nodded and put the car in gear, pulling out of his spot and onto the main road. Steve put music on.

Steve was being so quiet that Bucky wanted to go insane. He broke the silence again. “How are _you_ feeling?”

“I’m good, Buck. Friday games are just long ones.” Steve just said.

What the hell was Steve doing? Wasn’t he furious with Bucky? Bucky knew he was, that he had to be.

“Steve. What are you doing?”

“Well, I’m almost positive I’m driving home.”

Maybe _that’s_ how he was punishing Bucky. Bucky’s heart dropped. Steve _wouldn’t_ make Bucky go back home. Alone in his bed.

“Uh. Home.. as in- your house? Right?”

Steve didn’t look away from the road. “Yeah, my house. I said you could come over, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, I guess you did. I just thought…”

Steve didn’t help him finish his thought. They were almost at his house anyway. Steve only lived a couple of miles from the school. Bucky checked the clock on the dashboard, and found it was only a little after eight. He thought it should be midnight. It felt that long, anyway.

Every time Steve had Bucky over he pulled his car into his garage before he got out of it. Safety thing, Bucky supposes, since Steve has said he doesn’t normally park in the garage unless someone might see Bucky going into his house. Bucky hates that. Bucky grabbed his bags from the trunk because he had spare clothes and his phone charger in them. He dropped them by the back door once Steve unlocked it. Bucky has a key, but didn’t think Steve would take kindly to Bucky taking any initiative right now. Bucky trailed silently behind him.

Okay now, surely, Steve would shove him against a wall. Pull his hair. Maybe he was more paranoid than usual and hadn’t wanted to do anything to Bucky before they got in the house. Surely now Steve would.. whatever he would do.

Spank Bucky? Not let him come? Make him come a _lot?_ Until it hurt and he was begging not to go again but Steve-

Fucking Steve was sitting at his kitchen table with a stack of mail from the morning. What the _fuck._

Bucky tentatively took the seat across from him.

“Steve?”

“Bucky?” He didn’t even look up. He was looking at his fucking bills.

“Aren’t you. Y’know. Mad at me?”

“Why would I be mad?”

Bucky shook his head. “Steve, please. You know.”

“Right now I know that I have papers to grade and dinner to make.” Steve just said.

Okay, so he’s making Bucky wait. Bucky can wait. In fact, Bucky can piss Steve off _more_ if Steve wants him to wait. It’s still early.

Bucky folded to his knees by Steve’s chair. Steve was putting mail into a couple different piles and grabbing all the paper scraps that had come off when he opened them. Bucky put his head against Steve’s thigh. Mouthed at his jeans. Not close to his cock yet, still on the outside of his thigh, but surely soon Steve would relent and turn towards Bucky and spread his legs. And Bucky would be allowed to-

Bucky kept it up. Put both hands on the expanse of Steve’s hard thigh and moaned a little bit. See, and Steve was looking at him now. Any minute now he’d let Bucky suck him off and all would be forgiven.

Steve stood up and walked straight into the kitchen without acknowledging Bucky, who whined out fucking loud.

“Okay, Steve. What the fuck.”

“Don’t you have homework you could be doing, James?”

Bucky shook his head. “Don’t ‘James’ me right now.”

“That’s your name. How does ravioli sound for dinner?”

Bucky scoffed.

“Sit at the table and do your homework. Now.”

Begrudgingly, Bucky grabbed his bag and brought it to the table. At least Steve gave him a fucking order. He had a Biology worksheet due Monday, but it was literally only Friday goddamn night.

Steve set the oven to preheat and sat at the table with Bucky and a stack of quizzes to grade. Looking over, they weren’t the one Bucky had taken the other day, so they must’ve been precalc or something. Whatever.

Bucky did his fucking biology and didn’t even complain about it. Steve got up often enough to go into the kitchen. Put shit into the oven. Stir things. Bucky was ready to lose his mind. He followed Steve into the kitchen and hopped up to sit on the counter next to where Steve stood.

“Hey, Stevie.”

“Need something, Buck?”

Bucky made an inarticulate noise and pulled on Steve’s shirt, until he took a step to face Bucky. Bucky started smiling inside, wrapping his arms around Steve’s neck.

“Sir, I know you’re upset with me. Please punish me. I really want you to hurt me for acting how I did. I’m an awful brat aren’t I? I wanna regret it. Please?”

Steve put a hand on the side of Bucky’s neck, running his thumb soothing up and down.

“Bucky..” He crooned. Bucky’s cock started to stir, make itself known.

“Steve,” Bucky breathed, preparing to be kissed.

“I’m a little busy right now.” He said in his hard voice again. Stepped out of the vice of Bucky’s arms and turned back towards the fridge.

Bucky was about to cry.

“Steve.”

Steve kept cooking.

“ _Steve,”_

Nothing

Eventually Steve pulled things out of the oven and off the stove and got a couple of plates out. He handed one to Bucky for them to both load with food. They ate quietly and Bucky picked at his food a little bit. He knew the hammer would drop soon but he didn’t know when Steve would relent this act.

He could always _make_ Steve break.

Bucky looked at what was left on his plate,- about half of what he’d gotten- and choked a few more bites down. Forming a plan.

When he was done eating, he sat on the couch, knowing Steve would probably follow, if only to keep tormenting him.

Sure enough, after rattling around the kitchen and putting things away, Steve sat down. Normally Bucky always helps him clean up, insisting Steve not do it all alone. This time, Bucky hadn’t been gotten his own plate off of the table. _Fuck you, Steve._

When Steve sat on the opposite end of the couch as Bucky and set down the same stack of papers he’d been grading before, Bucky put his feet in Steve’s lap. Steve made no move to stop him, but didn’t welcome it either. Acted like he didn’t notice. Bucky laid all the way back and propped his upper body against some pillows, closing his eyes.

He thought about Steve hurting him. Steve’s mouth, his hands. Steve was right there, ignoring him. And Bucky was getting hard

And well, if Steve was gonna ignore him…

Bucky undid his jeans and took himself in his hand, letting out a choked groan at the relief. Steve turned his head incrementally, glancing out of the corner of his eye, but did nothing else.

Bucky stroked lazily, breathing loudly and shakily. He arched his chest up and spread his legs further open, figuring if Steve was just gonna sit there then Bucky might as well put a show on. He thumbed the sensitive veins on his cock and amplified the moans that were trying to come out anyway.

Steve did nothing. Bucky, pissy and annoyed and turned on, decided he was gonna stroke himself off right here. If _Steve_ wasn’t gonna touch him…

He stroked faster, with a tighter grip, and let loud, long whines out when he hit something sensitive. Steve eventually theatrically closed his laptop and shifted so he faced Bucky, but still said nothing. Bucky kept touching himself. Using his other hand to pinch a nipple between his fingers through the soft cotton of his shirt.

Steve said “You getting close, there? Gonna make yourself come?”

Bucky nodded.

“Are you? You’re going to come?”

A whine. “God, yeah- Steve. Oh _fuck._ ” Bucky stroked even faster, arching into his own touch.

“James..” Steve crooned. Bucky’s orgasm was building so slowly, warm and tight in his abdomen. He was making high, panting noises. Trying to beg without words.

“Get your hand off your cock.”

Bucky froze. His stomach dropped. He slowed his stroking but didn’t stop. “Steve..”

“Now, Bucky.”

Bucky stopped. He brought both of his arms to cover his face and leaned all the way back, groaning in protest. Steve watched in amusement as his cock gave a protesting _twitch._

Steve said, “If I touched you right now, would you come?” Bucky nodded furiously.

Steve hummed and kept staring at Bucky. When his breathing started to slow down and he lowered his arms to look at Steve, Steve smirked.

“You can start again.”

Bucky studied him for a few moments too many before taking his aching cock back in his hand to stroke more lightly than he had before.

“Like you mean it. I don’t have all day.”

Bucky scowled. “Yes the- _ah-_ fuck you do.”

“Not to sit here while you mewl and squirm over there. I was trying to work. Get on with it.”

Bucky reluctantly tightened his grip and jacked himself that bit faster. It felt- _fuck,_ it felt good. He groaned and threw his head back, more willing, now, to thumb at the underside of his cock for a moment. Stroking with a harder and tighter grip, so that elastic tension filled his abdomen. Steve hummed and looked him over dispassionately.

Bucky’s legs shook a little bit, and he whined breathily. For the sake of breaking Steve’s resolve and maybe because he just _really_ wanted to, he said, “Steve, Steve- _oh.”_

Steve put a hand firm on Bucky’s thigh. “You’re gonna tell me when you’re close.”

“I- _fuck-_ I already am.”

“How close?”

Bucky shook his head. Steve was gonna make him-

“Bucky.”

“Close enough, Steve.”

Steve _tsk-_ ed. “Stop, then.”

Bucky sobbed, “ _No,”_ but took his hand away from himself anyway, making pitiful noises. The pressure that had been filling Bucky up began to subside, and most of his ability to resist Steve went with it. He said, “I get the point, Steve, I’m sorry.”

“Uh huh.”

And Bucky, needy and desperate as he was getting, said, “Steve, can I-“ and then crawled over to Steve.

Steve relented that little but enough to sit back so Bucky could straddle his lap. He wrapped his shaking hands around Steve’s neck.

“Bucky,”

“Steve,”

“Jerk off for me.” Steve said lowly, the way he does when they’re in a crowded room and he wants to talk to Bucky. Wants to make Bucky squirm and shake in his seat while he-

Bucky took his cock back into his hand and a hitched whine forced its way out of his throat. “Actually jerk off, or do you want me to…” Bucky trailed off.

“You’re not coming if that’s what you’re asking.”

Bucky buried his head in Steve’s shoulder, moving his fist over his cock reluctantly, chasing a release he’d be denied anyway. “Steve, I have to.”

“Should’ve thought about that earlier. I wanted to fuck you open with my fingers and I sit you nice and sweet on my cock, but since you decided to be a pain in my ass, this is what you get.”

Bucky shook his head but tightened his hand on himself still more. “Steve, I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry.”

“I bet you are.”

Bucky’s hand quickened of its own volition, in the habit of moving fast and hard in the exact way that would get him to come quickly. He ground his ass back out of reflex and found Steve hard underneath him.

 _“Oh,_ Steve, god. Fuck. You’re hard. Will you fuck me? Please? I’m sorry.” Bucky moved his hand still faster, thinking about Steve in him, fucking him raw.

Or maybe slowly, and really really deeply. Slow enough that Bucky’s orgasm builds and builds and _builds_ before he comes, shattering and shaking.

“You think you deserve to be fucked? You should be glad I’m letting you touch yourself at all.” Steve said.

“I can’t, Steve, I can’t keep going, I need to come,” Bucky whined.

“Are you close?” Steve knew he was; his thighs were shaking and his breaths rising in pitch.

“Yeah, Steve, _oh- god.”_

Steve hummed. “Keep going.”

Oh, fuck, Steve was going to let him come now. Bucky knew, and he needed it so badly that his whole body shook. He was right _there._

Steve said, “Stop. Right now,” But grabbed Bucky’s wrist for him anyway, ripping it away.

Bucky wanted to cry. “No, _no,”_ Bucky tried uselessly to get friction somewhere, grinding down on Steve’s lap and forwards against his abs, but Steve put a hand against his chest to stop him moving.

Steve chuckled. “Oh, poor thing. You were close, huh?” Bucky nodded miserably.

“Here, I’ll give you something nice. C’mere.” Steve shifted them both so that they were laying on their sides but pressed right to one another, chest to chest with their legs bent and tangled. Steve _was_ nice enough, in fact, to press the front of his thigh to Bucky’s aching cock. His jeans were rough on his skin but it only made Bucky whine and press further forward for more.

“ _Oh,_ Steve. Shit. Thank you.” Bucky babbled, grinding himself down on Steve’s cock.

“Is that nice, Baby?” Steve cooed. Bucky nodded feverishly, a little mortified.

He kept moving though, dragging his hips in long dragging motions onto Steve, clutching his shirt in both fists and making pitiful noises.

“You can do it, baby, come on,” Steve encouraged.

“I can’t, Steve, it hurts.” And it did; his cock ached and felt raw, his body shook.

Steve said, “You can. C’mon.”

“Steve. Steve. I’m gonna come. Can I? _Oh fuck._ Please say yes.” Bucky begged.

“You really need to, huh? I bet you do.” Steve teased.

“ _Yes,_ Steve, please.”

Steve hummed. “Okay, Bucky, go on. Come for me.”

Bucky moaned at just the prospect of being allowed. He ground down against Steve harder, chasing release.

“Come on, Bucky. You can do it. Let go.”

Bucky shook and choked on a cry when he came. He felt his cock twitch with it, and he clutched Steve’s shirt even harder and pulled a little, trying to ground himself so he wouldn’t- well, he wasn’t sure. Explode, die, keep fucking coming.

He blanked out just a little, but someone was whispering _Steve Steve Steve Steve,_ over and over. It might’ve been him.

Steve was kissing his neck, biting down on it in the way he did just to work Bucky up. Now he was trying to calm him down, Bucky thinks.

“Hey, Buck.” Steve mumbled.

“Hey, Steve,” Bucky said, tired.

Steve ran a hand through his hair. “How you feeling, baby?”

“Good. So good. You need me to..? Bucky reached down between Steve’s legs, palming his cock which was there, hard and ignored. Steve sucked in a gasp.

“You don’t- have to, Buck,” Steve said through gritted teeth while Bucky continued to rub at him with the heel of his hand.

“But can I, Steve? Please?” Bucky murmured

“Bucky-“ Steve groaned.

Bucky twisted that little bit further into Steve so he could kiss and nip at his neck. Steve shifted his hips, relief coursing through his veins after ignoring his erection for hours.

Bucky took a fistful of Steve’s shirt and tugged it down so he could mouth at Steve’s collarbones and suck a little bruise there.

Bucky said, “Steve, can I-“ and moved his hand to the button on Steve’s jeans. Steve nodded, fevered. Bucky worked the button open and the zipper down, panting hotly against Steve’s throat when he got Steve’s cock in his hand. _Bucky_ moaned, louder than the hiss Steve let out through his teeth at the same time.

“Go on, Buck, go ahead,” Steve said, finding a fistful of Bucky’s hair to tug at, moving him along.

“Yeah, okay, Steve,” Bucky murmured.

It took some shifting. They’d been laying down, so Bucky only had to slink to the floor, and Steve sat up, separating his knees so Bucky could kneel between them.

“You tried so hard to get me to let you earlier, didn’t you?” Steve murmured, caressing the side of Bucky’s head in his large hand. Bucky leaned into the touch, not getting hard again but certainly aroused. His skin was buzzing and he certainly _wanted._

“‘M sorry, Steve,” He mumbled, turning his head to kiss Steve’s palm.

Steve nodded. “It’s okay. You’re good, aren’t you?”

Bucky nodded. Steve continued, “Yeah, you’re sweet. Sweet little brat.” Steve was rambling. Bucky whined, “ _Steve,”_

“You need something?”

“Please- Can I-“ Bucky brought a tentative hand up, around Steve’s cock where it stood up between his legs.

Steve said lowly, “You wanna?”

Bucky nodded so quickly he got dizzy.

“Go on, then, love.”

Bucky kneeled up, taller, to take Steve into his mouth and tongue at the head of his cock a little bit. Steve let out a sigh, shifting his hand to put it against Bucky’s head. Not pushing, just caressing.

Bucky let out a contented noise, hollowing his cheeks and sinking further down Steve’s cock until it was just shy of hitting the back of his throat. Bucky wrapped a hand around what he couldn’t reach and dragged his head up and down Steve’s cock slowly.

Steve panted and moved his hand away from Bucky’s face to clutch at a fistful of the couch cushion, careful not to thrust up into Bucky’s mouth. Bucky was so sweet and wet and _hot_ and Steve was about to lose his mind.

Bucky kept going, moving so that he could mouth wetly along the side of Steve’s cock, up and down, giving a wide eyed, pretty look. Steve shook his head and moaned a little at the sight. He said, “Bucky-” weakly but with enough bite in his voice that Bucky acquiesced enough to put his mouth back over Steve’s cock and take it as far down as he could. Bucky hummed in content when Steve grunted and let out a single high _ah_ through his teeth. Bucky set his rhythm, raising his head before taking Steve as far as he could, over and over again until Steve said, “Buck- baby, I’m-” as a warning. Bucky just redoubled his efforts and only pulled off when Steve grunted and came, jacking Steve’s cock and panting while he worked Steve through his orgasm.

When Steve caught his breath and had begun to go soft, he pulled Bucky back onto the couch and said, “Hey, love,” before pulling him into his lap.

Bucky said, “Hey, Steve.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Good. I’m good. Fuck, Steve, are _you_ okay?”

“Of course I am,” Steve breathed into Bucky’s collarbone. “You’re so good.”

Bucky keened and looked at Steve, silently begging to be kissed. Steve obliged him, cradling the side of his head in his hand and tilting Bucky’s head down to meet his. They kissed for a while, soft and slow, before Bucky got drowsy and Steve insisted on carrying him to bed.

 

**Author's Note:**

> comments are more than appreciated! :)


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